The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 35: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

16 REYNOLDS’ WORKS there. As plainly as you, Clarine, can read the print of a book, could I read all that passed in the minds of Octavian and Christina, and how especially painful the ordeal was for that amiable and excellent girl. Heaven knows, too, it was painful enough for me, and often and often have I since wondered how I had the presence of mind sufficient to go through it, and how I could maintain the fortitude of a calm composure. I saw that Christina would give worlds for an excuse to depart, but that she dared not devise such a pre- text for fear lest it should excite a suspicion in my own mind. On the other hand, with an equal yearning, did I long to afford her that pretext, but on my own side I dared not, for fear lest both herself and Octavian should perceive that I had fathomed the secret of their souls. At length the mo- ment came for Christina to take her departure, and I did not ask her to return. No, I was deeply, deeply annoyed with myself for having invited her thither on that occasion, — an occasion so replete with painful sensations for us all.’’ Zoe again paused, but only for a few moments, and then she resumed her affecting narrative in the ensuing terms: ‘Several weeks again passed away, during which I had to sustain an incessant conflict with my own feelings. I could not help studying every look, word, and action on Octavian’s part, in order to judge of the depth of his passion for Christina. I saw that he was most cruelly balanced between a sense of his duty toward myself and his love for Christina. I knew that he regarded me with a compassionate friendship, and that he strove hard to invoke the sentiment of gratitude to his aid, for it was through me that he had become enriched. At length I could endure that painful state of things no longer. Some women would have made it a subject of reproach to a husband that he dared to love another, but I was at least spared that injustice and that folly, for my common sense told me that Octavian had no power over his volition and that he could not control the sus- ceptibilities of his heart. Other women would have aban- doned themselves to a frantic outburst of grief, and would have implored their husbands to give them back the love to which they had a right. But again did my good sense inter- vene to save me from that folly, for I knew — alas, too well! — that where true love never existed it could not be con- ceded to even the most tearful and imploring entreaties. CORNICIOOKS (E(0)